


Red Curtained Dreams - The Prologue

by lunestardrops



Series: The Neo Dream [1]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternative Universe - FBI, M/M, Showgirl Dancer Hyuck (kinda), Think Moulin Rogue type dancing but more modern, club, fem hyuck, undercover agents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-17 10:40:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29349078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunestardrops/pseuds/lunestardrops
Summary: Mark goes there with a mission.But a pretty golden boy with a silk dress has other ideas.
Relationships: Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Mark Lee
Series: The Neo Dream [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2155833
Kudos: 28
Collections: Challenge #5 — I heard a secret..





	1. Chapter 1

When Gangnam’s top Private Investigation team meets up for their weekly overview, Mark isn’t expecting anything new. 

His few and fellow agents line both sides of him in classic black suits and slicked back hair. Familiar faces, age old smiles. When Taeyong enters the room it goes silent, as it always does. 

You’d be a fool not to respect him.

“Alright, Agents. I hope you all got some excellent sleep, and didn’t spend your Monday morning nursing a hangover,” Taeyong shoots a glare towards Yuta as he speaks, and besides him Jaehyun breaks out into a sly smile.

“This week we’ve got our typical cases. Jung, you’re still taking care of the Velvet High case, right?”

Jaehyun nods.

“Good. Get that done by Friday. Nakamoto, you’ve got a typical drug breakdown in the more run down parts of upper Seoul, — ” Taeyong continues to brief each agent but Mark’s mind wanders to the antique shop on the corner of his apartment street. 

He visited the place out of bure boredom and curiosity about a week ago and had run across an old switchblade. Now, Mark isn’t typically the type of person to enjoy bathing in blood, but he hadn't been able to stop thinking about the blade.

If he was being honest, he really just wanted to storm out of this meeting and buy the blade now. Maybe it’d be forgotten in his apartment, covered in dust and not touched for years. Maybe he’d end up gifting it to someone else. He just felt he needed it. 

However, Mark knew better. 

“—Mark? Earth to Lee?”

Mark startles when Taeyong’s voice pierces through his trail of thoughts. He sits up, pen clattering to the floor, the sound much too loud for a room that should be filled with casual chatter.

“Yes, sir?”

From his right, he hears Sungchan suppress a chuckle and almost slaps him upside the head, but his boss is more important, so he settles for clenching his fingers against his calloused palms.

“I’ve got a-” Taeyong pauses, like he's about to say something he shouldn’t’ve, but he continues as if nothing happened, so Mark brushes it aside,”—favor to ask you. Come meet me at my office after work.”

The moment Taeyong exits the room, the room erupts into empty rumors and whispers of speculation. Of course, Doyoung does not humor their endless prodding, simply rises out of his seat and follows Taeyong out like the responsible second hand he is.

Xuxi strolls over to his side of the room after the duo have left, tugs at Mark’s suit sleeve playfully and chuckles deeply.

“Damn, wonder what the boss wants with you, almost sounded like you were in trouble,”

Although the comment is drowning in the tone of affectionate teasing, Mark can still hear the worry that lays under it all.

“I’ll be fine. Y’know Yong would never scold me privately. He knows me all too well to play games like that,” is what Mark lets slide from between his pursed lips.

However, he begins to doubt, his mind taking routes he’s much too familiar with. Because in all honesty, it sounded like trouble. And even if the career Mark chose is literally associated with the words chaos, death, and danger, he still disliked feeling like this.

He doesn't have time to ponder over feelings and emotions though, too busy trying to break down mafias from the inside and save innocent lives, so he picks his pen up off the floor, brushes his hands off on the knees of his suit, pats Xuxi on the back and strolls out of the meeting room to his office down the hall.

Left to deal with old paperwork and the painful effort of not letting his thoughts boil over. Alone.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mark get's a review of his case, and gains a bit of confidence.

When the green numbers flashing on Mark’s desk clock turn 19:00, he can hear a group of chairs squeak and creak under the weight of his fellow agents getting up and stretching. 

They gather their items and exit the building with a quick and silent bow goodbye to Taeyong and by the time 19:30 rolls around, the building is eerily empty. It’s so silent Mark practically jumps from his seat the navy haired secretary enters the room.

“Mr. Lee is ready to brief you about his  _ favor _ ,” Doyoung’s voice is deep and steady.

“Right. I’ll be there in 5 minutes,” Mark responds.

Doyoung doesn't say anything, rather accepts Mark’s answer with a slight nod of his head and exits the room, the only indicator of his new found absence the almost non existent click of Mark’s office door.

For the nth time that day, Mark raises on shaky legs, making quick work of tidying up. Logs out of his computer, puts his pens in their buckets and his papers back in their proper folders, locking the filing cabinet and his office as he leaves the room behind for the day.

The 5 minute tread to Taeyong’s office feels much longer than it should. Like Fate’s trying to warn him of the danger this’ll lead him to. Mark has never been one to listen to signs and omens.

The door to Taeyong’s room opens soundlessly. Despite the back facing him, Mark bows deeply as he enters, paying no mind to Doyoung lurking in the corner. Taeyong turns his chair around quickly, as if he's got no time to waste.

“Sit, sit,” he ushers, waving his hands in the general area in front of Mark.

The agent sits down on the plush chair in front of Taeyong’s mahogany desk, a bit tense, and eagerly, albeit, a bit tiredly, awaits instructions from his higher up.

“Right, so. No easy way to say this, guess I’ll just get it out of the way,” Taeyong huffs out, brushing his fingers through his platinum blond hair aggressively.

“I’m having you look into a club. Kind of like a top secret case kept from people who work for top secret cases either way. This...I’m technically not even supposed to be investigating this but I can't hold off while it could possibly get worse.”

Mark sits in shock, frozen in his seat. In the past 10 years he’s known Taeyong, 4 of those in a work environment, he's never seen the older break a rule or even come close to defying his superiors.

“W-wait. You’re serious?” Mark asks shakily.

“Of course, Mark. I don't joke about my job for funsies like Yuta or Jae do. I’m committed to carrying this investigation through,” Taeyong has made his decision. It’s final. Mark things he’ll be playing a small role, the poor naive boy. 

Doyoung slips out from the shadows of the corners of the room and slides a folder in front of Mark. It’s thin, maybe 15 pages max. A big 'CONFIDENTIAL’ is stamped on the front in big red letters. Below it ‘The Neo Dream’ scribbled in black ink.

Mark opens it with trembling fingers, in disbelief that Taeyong’s having him look into something so hidden. Identifying points and informative reviews lay between a plethora of blurry, unfocused pictures.

“Yes, I know these shots aren't the best but this place is almost impossible to get a camera into. So we’ve gotta work with what we have for now,” Taeyong rambles.

“Sir, could you excuse me? I must use the restroom.”

Taeyong nods his head towards the door and Mark practically bolts from the room, breathing erratic and mind a mess. He takes quick, long strides to the bathroom and enters forcefully, hands still shaking. As soon as he gets the chance, his hands find purchase on the cold, white porcelain of the washroom sink.

God he hates feeling like this. He sits and stares at his face in the mirror for what feels like hours, and soon enough Mark hears a few quiet knocks on the door, then Taeyong comes in, hesitation loud and obvious in his soft steps.

“Hey, buddy. Are you okay? I’m sorry if I freaked you out. I can find someone else if you’re not comfortable with it, and if not I can just leave the case alone like the higher ups wanted, promise,” Taeyong pries Mark’s fingers away from the sink and rubs circles over his inner wrist as he talks.

“I’ll never force you to do anything you don't want. Just, be honest with me, that's the most I’ll ever ask of you.”

Mark shakes his head softly, newfound determination grounded into his heart.

“I’ll do it. The only way I’ll get over my fears is facing them. At least for me. I won't be able to go over everything tonight, but have Doyoung leave the files on my desk, I’ll go over them in the morning.”

Taeyong pats him on the head, and when he starts ruffling Mark’s hair the younger whines like a child, “I’m proud of you, kiddo.”

* * *

When Mark steps into headquarters the next morning, he walks with a purpose, his steps full of power. 

_ “I can do this,” _ he mutters under his breath.

The sight of the thin manila folder on his desk when he enters his office no longer intimidates him. It screams adventure, and Mark smiles, he's always loved some thrill.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fateful day has come.

Saturday afternoon comes much quicker than Mark anticipated. Taeyong invites Baekhyun over, much to the younger’s displeasure, and fusses over Mark for three hours straight before the designer takes a step back and sighs with satisfaction, a big, shameless grin on his face.

“Damn, those dancers are going to  _ eat _ you up. I am indeed Byun Baekhyun, the most well known designer in South Korea with hands of magic.”

Taeyong sighs and rolls his eyes, “No need to get cocky about it, hyung.”

The white haired male pouts, “But then how else would I boost my already enormous ego?”

Mark snorts at the comment, clearly amused and extremely grateful to the older man for taking time out of his busy life schedule just to dress Mark all nice and pretty for some silly side investigation.

“Now remember,” Taeyong starts, placing both hands on the younger's shoulders, startling Mark out of his pointless trail of thoughts, “You’re a young rich heir to an even richer company looking to invest in them.  _ Don’t _ get distracted. My photographer barely made it out there, almost forgot what he went in there for. These dancers are dangerous, maybe not to the point of injury or trauma, but they can definitely interfere with our investigation.”

Mark nods his head, the words ingrained into his brain already, after all, Taeyong had been saying the same thing all week.

* * *

The second Mark steps foot out of the limousine Baekhyun had called for him, he can hear loud, excited chatter coming from the open doors of the club building. Two tall men dressed in long black coats stand outside of the doors, very clearly guards.

He holds his breath as he passes, afraid he’ll get stopped, but they don't bother him. Guess they just let anyone who looks like anybody into this place. As soon as he steps in his breath is taken away.

There’s a pool table on his left, surrounded by aged men of old money, cigars in some hands and champagne flutes in others. On the other side, three crowded poker tables emanate loud shouts of glee and groans of disappointment, the sound of chips clattering against each other noisy even in the cluttered building.

Two impressive bars lay in front of the two areas closest to Mark, and in the middle a wooden floor lays. In front of it, closer to the entrance, multiple round tables sit with coat covered chairs bordering the pristine white cloth, empty glasses littering the surfaces.

The un-noteworthy dancers clad in extravagant dresses and suits wander the room entertaining guests and getting tips along the way. Staff workers clear the glasses almost as soon as they’re emptied, replacing them with filled ones immediately.

A man short in stature and dressed in a velvet red suit comes up to Mark before he's even done taking this all in, tapping on his shoulder, and bowing at his waist before raising with a big smile plastered on his face. Mark barely gets the chance to run his eyes across the man’s name tag,  _ Agate _ , before the worker starts speaking.

“Excuse me, sir. I in no way mean to offend you, but is this your first time here? I don’t think I’ve seen you around before, and you have quite an impactful presence, if you don't mind me saying.”

Mark flushes pink and waves his hands in denial, “No of course I’m not offended, this  _ is _ my first time here. I’m, uh, actually here to watch the show tonight, and make an investment if I’m impressed.”

Agate’s mouth drops open in a perfectly round ‘O’ shape, but he gathers himself quickly.

“Well, let me show you to a seat then. May I have your name? I’m sure Mr. Suh would  _ love _ to meet you.”

“Minhyung. Lee Minhyung,” Mark responds. Agate leads him to the front table, and speaks quietly into his in-ear, two other workers arrive not soon after, who Mark quickly identifies as Aventurine and Ruby who proceed to drag all the chairs away until only two are left.

“Well, here we are. My apologies for the hassle, Sir, we don't often have such respectable company here. Mr. Suh will be with you soon,” Agate bows quickly and hurries off before Mark can even thank him, or deny that anything was bothersome.

Agate, it turns out, is not wrong, as a tall, attractive man with an even richer red velvet suit and black gloves comes within the minute and introduces himself as the one and only Mr. Suh. Also known as, “John Suh,” the man says, holding a hand out, Mark takes it quickly, “Pleasure to meet you.”

“Lee Minhyung,” Mark replies quickly, shaking his hand. The man takes a seat next to him with a sense of calm and confidence that Mark wishes he had.

“I do hope that our show pleases you. It'd be a shame to disappoint a guest as admirable as you,” Mr. Suh’s voice is deep and rich, smooth like the fabric of his suit.

“I’m sure I will be. I’ve heard nothing but compliments,” Mark is surprised at the steadiness and firmness of his voice, but doesn't let it show on his face.

“Ah, well that's always nice to hear,” the man chuckles. The lights dim suddenly, and tables behind Mark are filled as soon as it gets dark. Mr. Suh smirks next to him, power and pride radiating off him in waves.

“Well. Looks like the show is about to begin. I think you’ll enjoy our main dancer of the night,” he chuckles, winking as he smiles, grin full of teeth and nothing but pure joy.

A spotlight hits the closed curtains with a loud click, and the room falls silent. The fabric opens slowly, and as soon as the light catches a gold glitter clad dancer, his throat closes up. His brain barely provides him with a name.

The song begins with the golden dancer, Sunflower, who is lowered to the stage on a swing, and Mark swears he falls in love.

_ Sometimes I’m right _

_ Sometimes I’m wrong _

_ But he doesn’t care _

_ He’ll string along _

_ He loves me so _

_ That funny honey of mine _

_ Sometimes I’m down _

_ Sometimes I’m up _

_ But he follows ‘round _

_ Like some droopy-eyed pup _

_ He loves me so _

_ That funny honey of mine _

He winks as he steps onto the floor, quickly flanked by 5 other dancers, who Mark recognizes as the other main dancers.

_ He ain’t no chic _

_ That’s no great physique _

_ And Lord knows, he ain't got the smarts _

Violet, the one dressed in purple continues, and the 6 of them switch during the song but Mark keeps his eyes on Sunflower the entire performance and he has no idea why. Mr. Suh, ever the observer, notices of course.

As soon as the last note rings out, the room erupts into whistles and applause. The 6 boys in stage break out into wide smile and as soon as the noise dies down Mr. Suh puts his hand to his mouth and whistles loud and clear. The gloved man points to Sunflower and the boys beside him visibly giggle before going backstage.

Sunflower steps down the side exit slowly, and when he starts to walk over to the front table, Mark knows his demise is upon him. The tanned boy walks with confidence, heels clicking against the floor with power and dress swaying behind him with an enchanting elegance.

When he gets over to their table he doesn't hesitate to sit on Mr. Suh’s lap and whispers into the man’s ear with mischief glinting in his eyes while he stares at Mark. Mr. Suh grins, big and wide, and Mark is almost intimidated.

“I hope you don't mind that I invited Sunflower over, Minhyung. He seemed to have caught your eye during the performance.”

Mark blushes hard, and if he had been paying attention, would've seen the tanned boy smile shyly.

“Nice to meet you, Lee. I hope you enjoyed my singing. Violet always teases me about my tone,” he pouts as he talks and Mark wants to kiss him so bad.

Fuck.

Sunflower gets off of Mr. Suh’s lap and grabs Mark’s hands and rugs him up from his seat.

“Dance with me?”

And who is Mark to deny him anything when he asks so nicely. They dance all through the evening and just as Sunflower lets him go through the back exit, he whispers into Mark’s ear, “You can call me, Hyuck, star boy. See you in your dreams.” 

Then he’s gone.

Mark goes home with an investigation abandoned, but with lipstick stains in his collar, gold glitter in his hair, and a smile so wide he feels like his jaw is gonna break.

God, Taeyong’s gonna be so  _ pissed _ .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [will add notes after reveals]


End file.
